


100 Themes Challenge - Bluestreak

by Dani_PandaCat



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Mostly unrelated ficlets, Related ficlets will be marked, Various Others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:15:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dani_PandaCat/pseuds/Dani_PandaCat
Summary: These themes will all centre around Bluestreak, and some might even be connected.I started this years ago now, and am trying to get back into it. Not guarantying regular updates.(Note, I'm posting these out of order, but might reorder them when finished.)





	1. 1. Introduction

He shifted slightly on his pedes. His doorwings growing sore from being held stiff in a ‘relaxed’ position, when they so desperately wanted to press down, close to his body, showing his nerves. The small smile made his face feel tight, like a mask.

They had all been standing there for some time, while all their superior officer did was write on a datapad. When he had first come in, he had walked up and down the line of transferred mechs and femmes, giving a slight nod of his head as he went. Then when he reached the end - right next to Bluestreak - he had stopped, and with a quick, “You may talk amongst yourselves if you wish.” he had dived head first into his datapad. So while everyone had started chatting with one another, Bluestreak stood there awkwardly, trying not to allow his doorwings to show how intimidated he felt. It didn’t help that the officer was Praxian too, and could easily tell how uneasy Bluestreak really was, which was proven when the officer would throw him a small glance.

And so, Bluestreak was left alone with his thoughts... What if they don’t like me? What if I’m not good enough? What if I mess up and put bot’s lives on the line? Why am I even here. I was fine being a grunt. I didn’t care that we were losing ground in Polyhex. I don’t care if I die out there. Anywhere is better than Iacon, where I’ll mess up, and screw things over, and make a fool of myself, and what if-

“You will all meet Jazz at the assembly hall at 10:00 mega-cycles. You are free to go.” The Praxian officer said suddenly, pulling Bluestreak out of his downward spiral of thoughts.  
The talking quieted, and there was a pause as his words sank in. Than the mass of bots split up into several groups, heading off in different directions, leaving Bluestreak behind. 

It took a second before it occurred to Blue, _I don’t know where to go._  
A wave of panic washed over him, threatening to pull him under. Bluestreak quickly followed the direction the others had gone, no longer wanting to be with the officer that could read his mind as easily as the Decepticon Communications officer supposedly could.

 

* * *

  

Prowl watched the fellow Praxian rush from the room as if Unicron himself was on his heels. He felt a small amount of pity for the younger mech. He was clearly uncomfortable, doorwings tense, tight smile, constantly shifting. 

 _He’ll probably get lost._  With a sigh, Prowl activated his comm.

 

“:Jazz, come in.:”

::Talk to hand ‘cause the helm ain't home.::

“:Jazz.:”

::Ah’m busy Prowlers!::

“:Busy with work, or busy procrastinating.:”

::...::

“:I thought so. I need you to check on one of the new transfers.:”

::One o’ dem warrior types givin’ ya trouble?::

“:Not quite. He’s more… lost than anything. I’m sending you his file.:”

::Dang, he’s fresh. Right… The Jazzmister is on it!::

“:Understood. Prowl out.:”

 

There, now his conscience was clear. After all, Jazz was better at handling bots then he was. And he did have all of those reports to go through…

 

* * *

  

Bluestreak wandered the halls of the Iacon base aimlessly. It was huge. Far larger than anywhere he had been before. Perfectly meeting the expectations of the Autobots HQ and home of the Prime.

Being slightly smaller than the others, Bluestreak couldn’t really see where he was going. He was shoved this way and that, as bots hurried to their assigned posts. Heck, even the minibots were doing better job at navigating the crowds. Bluestreak thought about asking for directions. But then again, he didn’t really know where he was suppose to go. And it’s hard to ask for directions when your destination is unknown.

So, pressing his doorwings as close to his body as he could, Bluestreak pushed himself as much out of the way as possible, and continued wandering. As he walked, his thoughts started to drag him further in. _Stupid. Useless. Worthless. No good. Waste of space. I bet everyone will say I talk too much. And I bet they’ll talk behind my back. While I’m in the room too. Just like the others did. I mean, I know I talk a lot, but I’m not deaf. I could hear what they were saying. Loud mouth. Chatterbox. Slag mouth. Glitched. Audio-rape. The run-on sentence. I mean sure, I’ve got good aim, but I’m probably not even close to average here. Compared to the Iacon bots, I’m laughable really. I mean, who would - hey… Where did everyone go?_

Bluestreak looked around confused. He hadn’t realized the hallways had gotten less crowded until there was no one left. No one but himself. Had he wandered into some restricted area? _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid_ …

A wave of panic washed over him. What if he wasn’t supposed to be here? What if he got in trouble? What if there was some kind of emergency, and he got in the way? Rushing through one empty corridor after another, Bluestreak struggled to keep his intakes calm. But no matter where he turned, all he was met with was empty space, until he was well and truly lost. Alone. The last one. Everyone else was gone, and all that was left was the silence. _The never ending silence_.

_Stop! No, no, no. There’s got to be someone. Anyone! I can’t be alone. Not again. Not... nonononono…_

Bluestreak stopped dead in the hall, intakes hitching. No, he wouldn’t cry. Someone might see. Then there’d be the names and the teasing. Weak. He was weak to cry. Only, his optics wouldn’t listen to him, and soon hot, wet tears began to run down his face. His hands balled into fits, and his doorwings quivered.  
_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid… Frag it Blue!_

He angrily wiped away the tears, but they continued to fall. His frustration only fuelling the grief swelling in his spark, and one lone hiccuping sob escaped his vocalizer before he could stop it.

 

“Well, who do have we here!?”

Bluestreak jumped in surprise at the loud voice that appeared next his audio as someone slung their arm over his shoulders, somewhat mindful of his doorwings. He looked up into the cheerful face of a tall, bright red mech with a dark helm. “Wha’ do ya think Sunshine?”

“The name’s Sunstreaker, aft.” Bluestreak looked to his right to stare up at a tall yellow mech with similar structure to the red mech on his left. The only difference between the two was the helm design and the scowl that the yellow wore.

 _Where did they come from? I didn’t even hear them approach._  Bluestreak thought confused.

“You got a name kid?”

It took a second for Bluestreak to realize that the red mech had spoken to him. “Uh… B-Bluestreak.” Blue mumbled.

“Well B-Bluestreak, I’m Sideswipe. That lovely mech right there is my twin, Sunstreaker. But you can call him Sunny.” Sideswipe winked.

“No, he can’t, Sides.” Sunstreaker growled. However he had an odd expression on his face. Bluestreak looked wearily between the two as they appeared to have some sort of silent discussion. Then, with a small pout the yellow mech broke the heated optic contact.

“Now that the Introductions are over,” Bluestreak’s gaze snapped back to Sideswipe, “what exactly are you doin’ here on your lonesome?”

Bluestreak shifted. Looking away, he muttered something unintelligible. Sideswipe cocked his head to the side. “What did you say?”

“I said, I’m lost.” Bluestreak mumbled, face darkening from embarrassment. He waited with bated breath for the beratement.

“Well, then what you need is a map.” Sideswipe grinned. “Where you headed to?”

“I… I don’t know.” Bluestreak slumped.

“Well then you’re not lost, are ya.” Sideswipe joked.

“I, guess not.” Bluestreak replied.

“There you go! One problem solved. Why don’t you hang out with us until you know where you’re supposed to be, hmm? Sunny?”

Bluestreak looked to the yellow mech, half expecting him to tell Blue to get lost. Sunstreaker merely replied with a bored, “Meh.”

Sideswipe positively beamed at that, practically skipping down the hall, dragging the youth with them.

 

* * *

 

Jazz growled in frustration, startling several nearby bots. They scuttled away as Jazz thumped through the halls. He’d been searching for mega-cycles - okay just one and three cycles, but still - and there was still no sign of the missing transfer. How could the bot just disappear! 

It was nearly 10:00 mega-cycles. Jazz needed to find this bot now… Time to bring in the big guns.

 

“:Heyya Red, ya copy?:”

::What do you want Jazz.::

“:Ah’m lookin’ fo’ a mech. Ya wouldn’ happen to have seen ‘em would ya?:”

::What mech Jazz, you need to be more specific.::

“:Er, right. Ah’m sendin’ ya the file.:”

::Hmm… Oh. Uh, yes I’ve seen him.::

“:Red?:”

::I… last saw him with the ‘terror twins’ near the Rec. Room.::

“:As in, the ‘terror twins’ Sideswipe and Sunstreaker who cause trouble for the officers and ‘welcome’ the new bots?:”

::... Yes.::

“:Slaggit.:”

 

Jazz spun 180 and raced down the hall, cutting the transmission as he went.

 

* * *

  

“No way! How did you do that!” Bluestreak exclaimed.

“He didn’t.” Sunstreaker said in a bored manner.

“I did so! Ya believe me, right Blue?” Sideswipe whined. Bluestreak giggled, “Sure I believe you.”

“There, ya see, Sunny.”

“Don’t call me that.” Bluestreak giggled again.

 _“He’s sure happier than when we found him in the hall, huh?”_ Sideswipe said to his brother through their bond.

_“Hmm? Yeah, I guess.”_

_“I wonder what made him so upset...”_

“So, Bluestreak, where were you transferred from?” Sideswipe asked to keep the conversation flowing.

“Polyhex.” Bluestreak replied casually as he brought his cube up to his lips.

“What.” Sunstreaker sat up. “That’s at the edge of Autobot territory. Hasn’t it been under attack for orbital-cycles?”

“Kinda…” Bluestreak admitted sheepishly as he took a sip. The twins shared a look. The table fell into an awkward silence.

“So… erherm… what do you do… with the Autobots?” Sideswipe asked, trying break the ice.

“Oh. Uh, I’m a gunner… just a grunt really. I’ve got pretty good aim, but that’s about it.” Bluestreak said.

“Nah, there’s got to be somethin’ else ya can do.” Sideswipe reassured.

“Not really…” Bluestreak ducked his helm down.

“Hand to hand?”

“I suck at that.”

“Espionage?”

“I’m not good at sneaking.”

“Hit an’ run?”

“I’m good at the hit part… I fall on my face during the run part.” Sideswipe barked out a laugh while Sunstreaker snorted.

“Hey, what time is it?”

“Uhhh…” Sideswipe glanced at the monitor on the wall, “9:53 mega-cycles.”

“Oh. I’m supposed to meet a bot named ‘Jazz’ at an assembly hall at 10:00 mega-cycles…”

“But you don’t know where that is, do you?” Sunstreaker finished.

Bluestreak’s response was to blush a dark grey in embarrassment. Sideswipe laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “That’s alright. We’ll show ya. Don’t worry, Jazz is a really cool bot. Ya’ll like him.”

Sunstreaker grabbed the empty cubes to dispose of them, while Sideswipe wrapped an arm around Bluestreak’s shoulders, stood up, and led him out of the room, closely followed by his brother.

 

* * *

 

Prowl was annoyed.

He’d been called down to the assembly hall because Jazz hadn’t shown up and the new transfers couldn’t get in; and the bots running to and fro had complained about the main hall being clogged with mechs and femmes. So now Prowl was standing out in the hall by the assembly’s door, waiting for the slagger to show up. Which he hadn’t. For the past 10 cycles. Until…

“Oh, heyyyy Prowlers!”

“Jazz…” Prowl growled, turning to face the pit-spawn. He couldn’t figure out why everyone assumed they were friends. It was illogical.

“Sorry Ah’ma late… Ah, uh… couldn’t find the, er, mech… ya were… lookin’ fo’.” Jazz admitted sheepishly.

Prowl sighed. “How is the head of Special Ops not capable to find one lost mech.”

“Oh hey Prowl, Jazz. Are we late for the show?”

 _“Not now Sideswipe!”_ Both Jazz and Prowl snapped as they turned to face the terrible duo… only to stare dumbfounded at the mech of their discussion.

“What! Who! Where! Zeta!” Jazz cried, waving his hands at the silver youth in between the twins. Bluestreak tried to shrink down under the perceived criticism.

“Bluestreak was lost, so me and Sunny-”

“Don’t call me that!”

“-Were keeping an optic on ‘im.” Sideswipe explained, an odd tone in his voice. “‘We late?”

Prowl and Jazz just stood there with their mouths open. Finally, Jazz managed to find his voice. “Uh, no… Ah just arrived.”

“Good. See you inside!” Sideswipe called over his shoulder as he and his twin walked the young bot in.

“Well tha’ was… odd.” Jazz stated as soon as the tricksters had disappeared. Silence was the only reply he got. Jazz turned to the SIC next to him, who was still staring where the twins had been standing, a blank expression on his face. “Prowlers?”

**Thunk**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit did I write this a long time ago. Honestly, this is kinda (a lot) making me cringe.
> 
> Probably gonna re-write this completely at some point, but for now I'm too lazy.


	2. 3. Making History

I’m wandering around a grass field several yards away from the building Prime is meeting the human governments in. It’s the middle of the season  _ summer _ here on this side of the planet. The grass is almost totally brown; dried up. Dead.

From what I gathered from the humans TV, the radio, the internet - this  _ summer _ is suppose to be a relaxation period. A time to enjoy with your loved ones, your family and friends. A time for happiness and joy. 

But all I see around me is… misery. Plants are drying up and turning brown. Animals are scarce and skittish. Water and local food resources are depleting. The humans around us look just as miserable in the heat as the Autobots do (being from Cybertron, we are not use to the rapid temperature fluxes this planet goes through regularly).

 

I look around at the dead, brown earth. It so hot out I’m sure I’ll overheat soon. Ratchet would have a fit if he saw me standing out here, in the open under the blistering sun. But he’s inside with Prime. And Prowl, and Jazz, and Ironhide, and everyone else. The only one crazy enough to be outside right now… Is me.

I couldn’t stand it though! I was suffocating inside that awful place. The tension between the humans and us Autobots was thick enough to cut with a laser scalpel. We need the humans to give us more energon, as most of the troops are starving, and right now we are unable to defend the humans from the Decepticons. The humans in charge seem to think we’re here on purpose, to rob them of their resources like the Decepticons. So now the officers are trapped in what is basically a human game called a ‘staring contest’ where the object is to stare at the other person until they yield. Humans do strange things.

 

The temperature just rose a degree. I can feel the increase. The condensation that was building on my brow, runs down my face, dripping into my optics. My systems are working overtime to try and cool me down, and I’m starting to wish I had sweat glands like the humans. Not to mention I’m getting more than just a little light headed. But I’m  _ not _ going back inside. No matter how cool it is in there with the air conditioning unit. No matter how hot it is out here.

Wait, when did the building get so far away? I realize that I must have been pacing. Slowly moving further and further away. A warning goes off in my HUD. If I don’t find  _ some _ relief from this heat soon, I’m gonna fall into stasis. Not good. Biting my lip component, I look around. The building is pretty far away now. The closest shade is a large tree standing alone; tall and strong. Although, even  _ it’s _ looking pretty brown.

I stumble towards the tree. I hadn’t realized my systems were so overheated. How long have I been out here? Checking my chromonitor, I find I’ve been out in the heat for… Four mega-cycles! Primus! How long has that meeting been going on for? It should have been over ages ago.

With a heavy  **thud** , I collapse against the tree, allowing my helm to rock back into the rough bark. The shade offers some relief, however, it is still blisteringly hot. I’m venting harshly and my systems are still feeling the strain. What I wouldn’t do for a cold cube of energon, or water?... Well, there is actually  _ a lot _ I wouldn’t do. Like go back into that fragging building. It must be pretty bad if they’ve been at it (and haven’t noticed I’m still not back) for  _ four mega-cycles _ . Call me a coward, a fool, a wimp. But I’d rather offline from the heat then go back into that building. Not only was there tension, but anger as well. From both the Autobots and the humans. It was strong enough to make my tanks clench.

The shade doesn’t seem to be doing me any good. If anything, I just feel dizzier and more exhausted than before. I don’t realize I’m slipping until I’ve fallen over and I’m laying on the ground. Groaning, I shift until I get my doorwings spread comfortably underneath me so they don’t ache. The light is beginning to hurt my optics, so I close them. With my optics closed, every sensation seems to increase a tenfold. The heat, the hunger, the spinning ground, the scorching air that burns my throat with every intake.

More warnings flash across my HUD.  _ “Internal temperatures too-” “Ventilation rate un-” “Stasis im-” “Energy levels cr-” “Sensory imput-” _

They’re all spinning by as fast as the world is spinning around me. I can’t even read them! Darkness pulls at my consciousness, and I can’t find the energy to fight it.

 

And then… I really am alone. Surrounded by darkness with no sense of direction. I call out, but nobody answers. Is there truly nobody left? I can’t be all that is left?

Panic squeezes my chest. No, I can’t. I can’t handle this! There has to be someone out there! I  _ can’t _ be alone!

I start to run. I don’t know where or which direction. I just run, and I can’t stop. A scream builds in my throat, and just when I think I can’t take it… I’m not there anymore…

I’m back in Praxus. And everything is engulfed in flames. Screams fill the air, thick as the smoke. Everyone is running around in a panic. I feel so small and weak. Where are my creators? I call out for them, but I can’t make my vocalizer work. I’m pushed to and fro, nearly trampled several times. Tears are running down my face. Somewhere I can hear crystals shattering.

I finally give to the panicked crowd, and I start to run. I don’t know were I’m going, I just have to get away. As I run the crowd thins as the buildings open up, and I can finally see what is happening. There are others, and they’re…  _ killing _ everyone they can.

A frantic mech nearly crashes into me, before he is pulled back by another with a dark emblem. He screams in fear, yelling at the mech to spare him, begging me to help him. But I can’t, there’s nothing I can do! There isn’t! The other pulls out a knife, slicing his neck open. His screams cut short as energon spurts from his throat, spewing from his lips, and spraying across my face. He convulses. I scream

I’m running again. I can’t stop. An explosion sounds behind me, and I stumble. I have to get away. A second explosion, and the building next to me is falling. I cower, screaming, as I am plunged into darkness.

My back is pressed against a wall. My spark pounds as I gasp for breath. They are crawling out of the surrounding darkness, dragging their mangled disfigured frames along. They reach for me, calling, crying,  _ begging me _ . Why didn’t I save them, why didn’t I help them, why didn’t I  _ do something _ ? I sob. There was nothing I could do.  _ Why didn’t I try _ ? I did. I did! But I couldn’t… There was nothing I could do.

Their voices grow louder as they surround me. They claw desperately at my legs. I’m trapped. Then wall disappears and I fall down. I try to pull away, but one of them is already on me, dragging their decaying frame over mine. A Decepticon symbol lays unharmed on their chest. Right below the hole were their spark should be. I did that. Their dark, lifeless optics are level with mine. I killed them.  _ Why did I hurt them? Why did I kill them? _

I had no choice! They would have killed me! Don’t they understand! I didn’t want to! I had to!  _ Why did you kill me? You killed me! _ I’m so sorry!  _  I killed them! You killed me, Bluestreak! _

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t want to! Please, I’m sorry!”

_ Why, Bluestreak? Why did you kill me!? _

“Please! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

They grab my shoulders, they’re shaking me so hard.  _ Why did I kill them? _

“I’m SORRY! I’M SO SORRY! PLEASE! STOP! HELP! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!”

_ Why? Why, Bluestreak? Why, Bluestreak? Bluestreak? Bluestreak...  _ “Bluestreak!”

“NOO! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!!”

“Bluestreak! Wake up! Bluestreak, it’s okay, wake up!”

 

There are arms holding me, someone is calling me. Why is it so hot? I don’t know what’s happening. I panic. I scream and struggle, smacking whoever it is in the face. Their hold slips, and I break free. I run blindly, desperate to get away. The air is so hot and dry it burns my intakes. Where am I?

I look around desperately. I am in some sort of paved parking lot. It’s mostly empty, a few cars sit on the far side of the lot. I think I see someone getting out of one. It’s so hot. My head spins and I start to fall. Somebody catches me.

“No,  _ no _ , please!”

“Bluestreak! Bluestreak, it’s okay!”

I look up and see a face. I know them, right? Who are they? I croak. “S-Sideswipe?”

“Shh, it’s okay, Blue. I’m right here.” He looks concerned. Did something happen? He pulls me against his chest, and he feels as cold as ice. I whimper as he gasps. “Blue! You’re overheating!”

Is that what those warnings are saying? I’m not entirely sure. Sideswipe glances nervously at the gathering humans. I’m attracting attention…. But I don’t really care. I start to sob. “S-Sides-swip-pe…”

“Shhh, Blue. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He lifts me up into his arms, and I press as much of my body as I can against his. He’s so cold. I miss him wincing in pain. It won’t be till later that I learn just how overheated I was.

“Sideswipe...”

“Shhhh. I’m right here.”

“Why, Sideswipe?  _ Why _ !?” I sob. Sideswipe stops and looks down at me. “W-Why does it have to be this way? Why does it  _ hurt so much _ ?”

“I… I don’t know, Blue.”

“I don’t like it! It hurts! Why is this happening!?” I sob into his chest, tears flowing from my optics. Sideswipe doesn’t answer. He just sighs, and keeps walking back towards the building. Back towards the others. Back to where they are making history.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last completed work from when I first started this challenge years ago.
> 
> Ehhh... I'll leave this up. It's not horrendous. The whole third person thing is questionable though.


	3. 10. Opportunities

Thundercracker growled, annoyed, as he trudged his way up the rough incline. They had been battling the Autobots in a forested area, and the Decepticons had come out victorious this round. However, now he was stuck rounding up the wounded to bring back to the Nemesis. In a random sector of the woods that none of them had fought in. _And_ he couldn’t head back until he’d cleared the area.

_Like there would be anyone up here._ Thundercracker thought to himself. _Plus, all the Autobots retreated, and it’s not like them to leave anyone behind._

**Clank**

Thundercracker stopped as his foot hit something metal, hidden in the tall grass. Bringing it up to optic level, Thundercracker realized that he was holding a Cybertronian gun. A sniper rifle to be exact. With a jolt, he realized that there _had_ been someone here. And there was a chance that the bot was _still_ here. But if they were, why was their weapon on the ground so close the the cliff face…

Looking up, Thundercracker frowned, thinking over the possibilities. Finally, coming to a decision, he activated his thrusters and flew up to the top of the cliff.

Landing, he looked around. At first, Thundercracker didn’t see anything. He blew air out in a huff and turned to leave, when he saw a foot sticking out from behind a large cluster of rocks. Making his way over, he felt unease settle over him. He didn’t remember Megatron ordering anyone this far from the battle. Rounding the corner, Thundercracker was greeted with the bright red face of an Autobot symbol.

_Frag._

The mech lay prone on his back, limbs spread at odd angles. A large chunk of charred tree was embedded in his abdomen, just below the Autobot symbol. His doorwings were crumpled painfully under his back, and energon covered his frame. Bluestreak. That was his designation.

_Why do I remember that?_ Thundercracker thought to himself. Being trapped on the organic planet, Thundercracker had learned a surprising number of the enemy's names. It made him uncomfortable.

He had heard this _Bluestreak_ mentioned before. He was the Autobot’s sniper, often posing a hazard to him and his fellow seekers. Thundercracker hadn’t really seen him up close before. Bluestreak was… _Younger_ than TC had previously thought. His face rounder and less worn than the other Autobots, his optics larger, and his overall features softer than expected. He looked under 300 vorn old. This unsettled Thundercracker even more.

Bluestreak suddenly shifted, optics fluttering as a pained groan slipped from his lips. Thundercracker froze. Bluestreak’s optics opened partially, dazed and unfocused, he seemed disoriented. “Unngh… R-Ratch-het-t…” He stuttered, vocalizer glitching.

Thundercracker didn’t move. He couldn’t tell if the Autobot knew he was there or not. He hoped that the mech was just deliriously calling out for the Autobot medic. To his disappointment, Bluestreak slowly reached out to the side, in Thundercracker’s direction. “R-Rat-tch-h… S-S-Side-des-s…”

Bluestreak tried to shift over onto his right side, only to cry out as the wood in his abdomen shifted. Thundercracker reacted before he could process what he was doing. “Don’t move. You’re hurt.”

_What the slag am I doing?_

“H-Hurt-ts-s…” Bluestreak whimpered, optics squeezed shut as he curled in on himself.

Thundercracker clenched his jaw. “Yeah… It probably does.”

He shifted Bluestreak back onto his back, looking over the organic matter embedded in the mech. _He’s the enemy._ He thought. _Why am I helping him? I should be ending him myself._

“S-Sunn-ny-y…” Startled, Thundercracker turned to Bluestreak’s face. “I-Is… Si-ides-s-swip-pe al-lri-ight-t?...”

TC was confused. _Does he… Think I am one of the Kaonian twins?_

Out loud, he said, “You should be more concerned with yourself right now.”

“O-Oka-ay…” Bluestreak tried to nod, but winced instead.

“Don’t move.”

After a quick assessment, it became clear that the tree chunk had to go. The Autobot would leak to deactivation if it wasn’t removed. Thundercracker grunted. “I have to remove the obstruction. Lay still.”

Thundercracker placed his knee on the Autobot’s pelvis, a hand on his chest, and gripped the chunk of wood firmly. _This will be best in one quick movement… if I can._ Taking a deep breath, Thundercracker counted to three, before yanking the wood as hard as he could. Bluestreak screamed, face contorting in pain as he instinctively struggled. Thundercracker held him down. It was almost completely out. One more solid tug should do the trick. As TC ripped the last of the wood from Bluestreak’s chest, he winced at his agonized wails. They would haunt his recharge cycle for the next deca-cycle.

Thundercracker sat back on his pedes with a sigh, fluid soaked wood chunk in hand. Bluestreak moaned in pain, optics shut and face pale. Too pale. Inner-gon was streaming in heavy spurts from his chest, pooling on the dehydrated ground. Dumping the piece of tree off to the side, Thundercracker quickly pulled his repair kit out of his subspace. There wasn’t much in it, really. Just enough to fix one’s self up on the fly. TC also pulled out a cleaning cloth, which he scrunched up and placed over the hole in Bluestreak’s abdomen like a large gauze pad. He then took out a small roll of MetFlex bandages, and began to tightly wrap them around the Autobot’s torso.

“Ahh… Hnnnn… Nhnnnn” The noise left Bluestreak’s vocalizer as he gasped, his chest rising and falling.

Thundercracker ignored him as he finished tying of the bandage, pulling it tight so he wouldn’t leak out. He froze as a hand landed on his forearm. Bluestreak’s optics were still closed.

“Tss… I-It-tsss… M-M-My f-fffault-t… I-I… I-I-I d-d… D-Didn’t-t s-see… I-In-n t-time…”

“What?” TC was confused. He didn’t get what the Autobot was saying.

“O-Othhher-rs… H-Hurt-t… B-Because, I-I… M-Mmy ff-fffault-t-t…”

As the hand slipped off of his forearm, TC sat back on his heels, watching the Autobot gasp like a petro-shark out of water.

“This is… Just great. The _slag_ am I supposed to do with you?” Thundercracker growled in annoyance. Bluestreak gave no further reply.

Thundercracker lifted the Praxian up into his arms. Bluestreak, limp, offered no resistance. Without rhyme or reason, TC took off in the direction the Autobots had retreated in. He had already pretty much committed treason, might as well finish the job properly.  
  


* * *

  
Thundercracker hadn’t gotten far, when the crackling of branches and loud voices reached his audios.

“Sunstreaker! Slow the frag down.”

“ _We fragging left him_ **_behind_ **!” The deep voice of the yellow twin roared, causing TC to wince.

“Yeah, and I feel bad too. But there could still be Decepticons-”

“ _I’ll rip them apart if I have too!_ ” The loud impact of a tree falling over rang through the woods.

_This was a bad idea._ TC thought, twisting his mouth into a frown. He was about to just dump the Autobot onto the ground and leave, when the Kaonian mech came barreling out of the dense foliage in front of him.

Red optics met dark indigo. Sunstreaker froze in a ready stance, as Thundercracker tensed. He really didn’t feel like facing the gladiatorial mech on his own.

Sunstreaker’s face was set in a deep scowl, narrowed optics darted over the seeker’s frame, looking for weak spots. His optics flickered to the object in TC’s arms, barely widening in surprise. “Bluestreak…”

“Sunnnny! Wait the frag up, you afthead!” The other twin came stumbling after his brother, looking worse for wear. His right arm was strapped to his chest in a sling, and the amount of dirt, dents, and energon on his frame greatly outmatched his brother. A long series of scratches curved down the left side of his face, oozing drops of energon. “Oh… _Frag_.”

Thundercracker shifted, as Sunstreaker lifted his rifle, aiming at his head.

Sideswipe’s expression shifted to a confused frown. He put his hand onto Sunstreaker’s shoulder, speaking low. “Something isn’t right.”

“I’ll tell you what fragging isn’t right!” Sunstreaker snarled. “That slagger _has Bluestreak_!”

“I don’t want to fight you.” Thundercracker said, finally speaking up.

“Oh, is that _so_?” Sunstreaker sneered.

“Sunstreaker.” Sideswipe sent an uneasy look at his twin.

“He’s hurt.” TC stated.

“No _slag_ he’s hurt, thanks to you, fragger!” Sunstreaker snapped.

“He’s lost a lot of energon.” Thundercracker stepped forward, causing to twins to tense. He continued forward till he was directly in front of the two Autobots. He was surprised they didn’t just shoot his helm off.

After a tense moment of staring each other down, he thrusted the Autobot in his arms towards the twins. Sunstreaker dropped his rifle, quickly catching Bluestreak’s limp form, as the mech’s helm lolled towards his shoulder. Sideswipe fumbled to pull up his own pistol, aiming it uneasily at the seeker.

After situating the young bot in his ally’s arms, Thundercracker turned, taking off into the sky.

The sooner he got away from this whole mess, the better.  
  


* * *

  
“And where the slag have _you_ been, Thundercracker?” Starscream sneered, as TC landed in front of him. “It sure took you _awhile_ to find absolutely _nothing_.”

Thundercracker sent him a quick glance before moving further into the Decepticon camp.

Starscream let out an insulted screech. “How _dare_ you ignore me when I ask you a direct question!” He grabbed onto TC’s arm, pulling him around. “I am your _superior_ ! You _will_ answer me when questioned!”

Thundercracker gave him a bored stare, before drawing out, “I found an Autobot out in my sector.”

There was a long pause.

“ _And_!?” Starscream snarled.

Thundercracker looked away. “I took care of him…”

Starscream huffed, before letting go of Thundercracker’s arm. “Well… At least it wasn’t a _complete_ waste of my time waiting for your return.” His lips split into a grin. “I always _enjoy_ hearing of an Autobot’s _deactivation_.”

“Yeah, good for you.” TC muttered under his breath.

“Thundercracker,” Starscream drawled, causing TC to look back once more. He had pulled a cleaning cloth out of his subspace, and was dusting his arms off with it. He didn’t bother to look up at his subordinate. “Don’t be late again.”

Thundercracker grunted, disappearing into the depths of the Decepticon camp.

  



End file.
